


Promises

by Zenith_Lux



Series: Smoldering Embers [2]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: But Vergil gets her back in part 2 don't you worry, Demon Magic, Erotic Feathers, Erotic Flames, F/M, Fulfilling a Drunken Promise, IDK how many there might be not going to lie, Porn with Some-Plot, Slight Fem!Dom, Stubborn Vergil, Trigger Sex, established marriage, lots and lots of teasing, or 2, playful romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22296892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenith_Lux/pseuds/Zenith_Lux
Summary: In which Vergil keeps a few of his (intriguing) drunken promises, much to his wife's delight.
Relationships: Vergil (Devil May Cry)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Smoldering Embers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604947
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	1. Ribbons

**Author's Note:**

> Follow up to [Intoxication](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22580149) because GOOD LORD my brain would NOT let this idea go until I wrote it. Helped that the theme for this story was "Tease". So...
> 
> Enjoy! :D

After a month of separation, Ashira was both ready and terrified to see Vergil again. 

She always missed him when he was gone for too long. She knew from their connection - and formal correspondence from Griffon - that his diplomatic travels had quickly devolved into something akin to a war. It had been a trap, which hadn’t surprised anyone. And once the trap had failed, Vergil had done what a merciful Demon King did; forced the leader’s fealty, killed any who refused and sought out every other prince or reaver in the area. 

She might have once called the entire thing brutal. Many demons would die in this makeshift conquest. But that’s how things worked in the Underworld. As much as they wanted to avoid violence, demons would always be demons. And Vergil was always prepared to handle it as a Demon King should. Though she knew from quiet moments together that it always bothered him a little more than it should have; something they’d decided was a good thing. Humanity was, ironically, the best chance they had at peace. 

So, her fear wasn’t of him, but because of what she wanted to  _ do  _ to him. Convincing his human half to ‘submit’ was often as scary as his demon.

And she planned to face both. In one night. 

She was probably crazy.

But if it worked… it would be worth it.

“It’ll work,” V said as he leaned against the railing. She had long since given up trying to hide anything from him; intimate or otherwise. He was closer to her mind than either familiar, and sometimes even more than Vergil himself. Once, many years back, Vergil had been jealous. But he, like Ashira, had come to accept what his other self had become an extension of them both. He was a man who thought exactly like Vergil, but a familiar that was there to guide her, just like the others, with an intellect that Griffon or Shadow couldn't have. “And he will adore you for it.”

Her lips twitched in a smile, though her anxiety kept her in check. “If it works.” She gazed at the ribbons attached to her wrists. Pricilla had given them to her a few days after Vergil left with a rather coy recommendation; “if you practice now, it’ll be worth it later”. And without much else to do - as the Kingdom practically ran itself by now - she had practiced. A lot. Now, the ribbons rippled with a mix of her fire and the natural energy within them, shifting however she wished. But she hadn’t tried them on anyone, and certainly not on him.

Anxiety gnawed at her heart.  _ Maybe it won’t work. _

“Confidence,” V said. “You know he responds well to that.” 

She hummed in agreement and took a deep breath as she felt Vergil’s energy spike nearby. “I’ll call you back when it’s all settled.”

Griffon appeared first, swooping down onto the balcony with the precision of a bird that had done it thousands of times. “Boss is on the way,” He said. Shadow appeared at her feet, growling something at Griffon. His head tilted for half a second before the bird equivalent of a groan escaped him. “Yeah, yeah I get it,” He said as Ashira handed her bracelet to V. “Keep that to yourself, Princess,” The bird huffed as he jumped to V’s arm. Shadow rubbed her head on Ashira’s leg for support, before following after them. 

They were long gone when Vergil arrived, dropping his devil form before he landed soundlessly on the balcony beside her. “It’s been dealt with,” He said with a hint of irritation. “Honestly, you’d think these  _ princes  _ would have learned by now.”

She kissed his cheek with a nervous smile. “Welcome back.”

He watched her, and she felt a wave of questions between them. Ashira had taken great care to hide her thoughts, but she hadn’t been certain it would work. Now, as he stepped toward her, his skin still bursting with the energy of prolonged conflict, she was confident it had. 

“I missed you,” She said as she pressed her fingers along the nape of his neck. Normally, she would pull him in for a gentle kiss. But today was not a normal day. “I gave the others a day off.” His eyes flickered in understanding. “But I hope you will… humor me.”

His eyebrows shot up, but his expression didn’t change. “In what way?”

She clicked open the door behind her and led him into their room. “Do you remember your promise?”

His brows furrowed. “Which one?”

She wanted to laugh. When he’d finally asked for those memories, he’d actively avoided what his “drunken, idiot self” had proclaimed over the night. This was the first time he’d acknowledged the promises for what they were; enticing ideas.

It was also the first time they had been truly alone. 

_ “I will do what you wish,”  _ She quoted with the accompanying memory.  _ “If you make it interesting.”  _ His eyes drifted to the ribbon as she detached it from her wrist. His frown deepened when she shared her most recent dream, but the interest in his eyes was undeniable. 

Ashira took a chance.

The first piece was a test of his commitment as she very carefully (and purposefully) drew the ribbon along his skin before pulling it around its neck. Vergil twitched, as the demonic silk was made to drag out the skin’s natural sensitivity. He watched her, and she held his gaze with as much confidence as she could muster. Between his demonic energy left after the fighting, and the natural dominance of a king, it took everything she had.

But she was his Queen. His equal by his own proclamation, and she would use that to her advantage.

Once the two sides of the ribbon were even, she looped one end over the over, making a semblance of a tie that hung loosely from his neck. She gently tugged on the longer end, satisfied when it tightened ever so slightly. “Perfect.”

“I have plenty of those, Shira,” He said, his voice hilariously deadpanned. Vergil often hid his interest behind a wall of impassivity. She had once said he was “playing hard to get” (which was true), but he’d called it “making her earn it” (which was objectively false). 

She shrugged, ignoring him as she broke off two more ribbons. “Lay back for me, my love?” She asked, gesturing toward the bed. For a moment, he neither said nor did anything. She waited, relieved to feel her anxiety slipping away. She knew from their years together that confidence was one of the few things that Vergil loved as much as control. He would give in if she didn’t back down; but not without a fight.

He leaned in, lips inches from hers. “I’ll play by your rules.” His sultry voice sent shivers down her spine, and his smile turned smug. “For now.” He shed his coat and vest as he took a long step back toward the bed, eyes never breaking from hers. Ashira knew he was searching for a crack in her confidence, something he could use to turn this all in his favor. But she simply smiled and waited. Taking the hint, he sat up against the headboard. When she practically teleported to his side, she ignored his amused laugh. “Eager?”

“No more than you,” She said as she worked on the first knot. While Vergil had a high pain tolerance - and even liked it under the right circumstances - she wanted him to be comfortable. He didn’t fight as she wrapped the ribbons around his wrists. He didn’t argue when she tied them both to the headboard. But Vergil  _ did _ fight her in other ways. When her body got a bit too close, he nipped at it. When she tried to adjust each ribbon to her satisfaction, he’d lap at whatever skin had come too close. He’d even tried to kiss her once or twice, though she had managed to dodge those.

“Eager?” She echoed. 

“No more than you.”

Ashira ignored him as she pulled the final ribbon around his back. While he raised an eyebrow, she didn’t miss the shiver when she dragged the silk down his spine. She stopped just above his hips, leaning in to give him an encouraging kiss. He scowled at her, and she only laughed as she tugged gently on the ribbon. After a few moments, he shifted forward. That knot she tied as tight as his body would allow without digging into his skin. He’d probably forget about it for now.  _ Perfect. _

When Ashira finally took a step back, she couldn’t help but admire her work. These were only a small portion of the ribbons she actually had, but she was nervous about controlling too many at once. Four was just enough, both to restrain him and reach everywhere she wanted. Granted, the ribbons weren’t any sort of actual hindrance; he could break them at any time. But the thought that he had  _ allowed  _ such a thing, and given in to her request on trust alone, aroused her more than she expected. 

And given that occasional twitch in his eyes as he stared back at her - as fierce and proud as ever - she knew he felt it too. 

“I’ll only be a moment,” She said. His soul was curious, just as she had hoped. So, she turned away, tossing on his coat with a flurry usually saved for him, and snapped her fingers. His gasp of surprise, followed by a breathy groan made her smile. “You can wait for me, right?” 

She wasn’t surprised by the glare she got when she glanced back at him. But Vergil, her ever prideful king, simply lifted his chin and said, “You won’t break me that easily.

Another pulse made him shudder, and she grinned. “Good.”

* * *

For a very brief moment, Vergil wondered how exactly he had gotten himself into this predicament. But then another wave of energy (he was much too stubborn to call it pleasure just yet) rippled through every inch of his being, and he forgot the question entirely.

_ “You did agree to this.” _

He glared at her, but it failed miserably as she was looking away - thus blocking his view of her with his own coat - and another shudder wracked his senses. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this brazen. The two had done many things over the years, and she’d had her fair share of control the more comfortable he’d gotten with the whole idea. But she hadn’t tried something like this in years. Not since he’d taken the throne. And while both he and his demon accepted her, the latter was always a bit too quick to remind him of what he should be doing. 

_ A king takes what he wants.  _

But this particular King had a very persuasive and rather maddening Queen. One who had been exceedingly lonely since he’d been gone. And lonely Ashira had wild dreams; most of which involved him. Not that he minded, but Vergil usually knew what they were about. This time, she’d left him completely in the dark. But her eyes had been so bright, and her smile so sincere that Vergil had given into his temptress. And, despite his stubbornness, he realized quickly that he (probably) wouldn’t regret it.

Watching her take control of him, a man who had to control everyone and everything to keep his kingdom standing, was oddly arousing. 

He grunted at the thought, trying to ignore how tight his pants felt in all the wrong places. 

Another pulse from his makeshift restraints had him seeing stars. It was something akin to her fire, but much deeper and far more tantalizing than usual. She had used her flames once or twice in this capacity, but rarely on purpose. Vergil tried to predict when it would strike, thinking it would help in his somewhat pointless defiance. But it was entirely random and driving him close to delirium with each passing second. 

And after another burst of pure, unimaginable  _ torture _ , Vergil thought he might just reach his peak, and she hadn’t done anything yet. 

_ Insufferable woman. _

_ I heard that. _

He took a slow and shaky breath, pulling himself together. “This is… new.” He twisted his wrists in his bindings. They weren’t painful - more symbolic at this point - but he tugged on them from time to time; a small reminder of why he was being so patient. 

Ashira laughed, still not looking at him. “I’ve had some time to think.”

When she finally turned around, Vergil’s breath caught in his throat. He had seen her like this numerous times before. But there was something about the way the lace of her blue lingerie fell in asymmetrical pieces while accentuating every curve that drew his gaze. The fabric was light enough to see the darker panties underneath, but dark enough to hide almost everything else. Her low cut top was sewn into delicately crafted feathers that shimmered with demonic energy. She gave him a knowing smile as she glided across the room. “It’s always for you, my love.”

Vergil held her gaze, but another ripple nearly crippled him. Ashira leaned one leg on the bed as she drew a slow, torturous line along his sternum, up toward his neck, before gently lifting his chin. “My, my,” She purred. “Does his highness not have the patience to wait for his Queen?”

It was the perfect tease, but also a genuine question. They both knew how this night was going to end, as she’d riled herself up as much as him. But Vergil knew that she would happily submit to him if he asked. For all intents and purposes, her job was done, though he knew from her thoughts that she wanted to do much more. 

So, Vergil met her gaze with a smug smirk. “I have significantly more patience than you think.”

While she chuckled in amusement, he didn’t miss the way her shoulders relaxed. “I’m glad,” She whispered as she drew her fingers back down along his chest before brushing the skin just above his belt. His fists clenched in anticipation, but he didn’t give her the satisfaction of showing it.

“You’ll have to try much harder than that,” He said. 

“Of course,” She said as she crawled on top of him. While her thighs squeezed his own, she kept herself away from the ever-growing mound beneath her. Vergil growled in annoyance, bucking slightly for any kind of friction. But Ashira was just strong enough- and her pseudo-toy just distracting enough - that he never quite reached her. “I would be disappointed if you caved so soon.” She brushed her lips along his chin; a silent request that he give in to her ministrations. He clenched his jaw, stubbornly refusing to budge. 

It was an act.

They both knew it.

She would wait, well aware of his limits.

Any other night, he would make her earn it.

She leaned in and nipped at his ear.  _ “I already have,”  _ She whispered, her Phoenix language rolling off of her tongue in a beautiful symphony of admiration and seduction.  _ “Have I not?” _

Her teeth grazed his jugular as another pulse stole the last of his resistance. And as she nipped and suckled at his skin, all the way down to the crook of his shoulder, he bit back a sigh of pleasure.  _ “I suppose,”  _ He replied.

She pulled away much too quickly. His cock twitched behind her as she rolled her hips against his skin for her own pleasure. Another tease. He didn’t want to admit it was working. “You suppose?” She said as she tilted her head in mock thought. “Well, I guess I’ll have to try something different.” 

She leaned forward again, away from where he wanted. And he would have growled at her, but then she raked her nails up his chest with just enough pressure to pierce his skin. It took everything Vergil had to keep from groaning at the pleasurable pain they left in their wake. His wounds healed milliseconds after she moved on, but another, well-timed pulse sent sparks along where the scars should have been. The second time she sat up, it was with achingly soft feathers moving in all directions. Every touch - a feather, her fingers, or otherwise - was electrifying to the point of near madness. 

And she did just that. Over and over, always brushing along the most sensitive areas of his skin, but pulling away before he found any relief. Eventually, she unhooked his belt, and removed just enough to coax his aching member from its prison. Yet, this became another source of torture as the ribbon around his waist flared to life. She simply ignored it, preferring to scratch at his skin, press tight circles on his nipples, and tease him with kisses that were much too gentle.

“Infuriating vixen.” He muttered. 

She laughed, sitting back far enough that her lower back pressed along his shaft. A rumble of fire erupted from both her and the bindings. His eyes practically rolled into the back of his head, and it took far too long for him to catch himself. When he did, he almost lost it again as a feather brushed along his shaft, even flicking off the pre-cum that he could no longer stop. 

“Impressive,” He said through gritted teeth. He twisted his wrists again, seriously considering the consequences of freeing himself. 

She just watched him, unconcerned. “I’ve had full feather control for years,” She pulled them back to herself, and his eyes widened when she licked the last one, eyes gleaming. The feathers vanished, and she sighed as she lazily rolled her hips against him. “And to think,” She said. “This was going to be for you.” She shook her head with a shrug. “Your loss.”

He scowled at her, struggling to think. “That was my promise, was it not?”

“In a way,” She said as another feather brushed along his nipples Vergil sucked in a sharp breath. His skin was too sensitive. His muscles were too tight. How long had it been? He didn’t know anymore. “You promised that I would get to do whatever I want, but you’re being stubborn,  _ Saina.” _

He tried to hide his overwhelming desire with a sigh of frustration. “Then get on with…” His last word was lost to a drastic groan as she turned just enough to wrap her hand around his aching cock. Much to his annoyance, Ashira stroked him rather lazily, ignoring his jerky attempts for more. “Insufferable.”

“You love it.”

He grunted noncommittally, but his mind told her all she needed to know. 

_ “Well?”  _ She said as she pressed her thumb against the tip. Vergil said nothing, even when she let him go and straddled him again. This time, when Vergil pulled at his bindings, she reached for the one around his neck. A gentle tug was all it took to pull him to her. His shoulders strained at the exertion, but he was far more distracted by the lust in her eyes. She brushed her lips on his, but pulled away before he could kiss her back.  _ “Have I earned your permission, your highness?” _

Vergil wouldn’t beg.

She smiled at him as her eyes flickered to that of her demon.

_ I can still fight. _

The crackling energy in the room was a lot more than just his own. 

_ For how long?  _

Ashira tilted her head, wrapping the silk once more around her hand. It tightened against his throat, but both were too lost in their demonic power to care. Her free hand drifted back and forth along his arms, his chest, his neck… anywhere she could reach, leaving phantom scars behind. A breathy moan escaped him, but he stubbornly held her gaze. 

_ “Is this what you want?” _

This time, there was no underlying question. And the brazenness of it all, mixed with the cocky grin she gave at his hesitation, almost broke him. Her sultry voice was like a waterfall he never wanted to leave. Her lips were so close to his that he could feel every breath. Ashira sighed, but her smile never wavered.  _ “My beautiful, stubborn king,”  _ She mused.  _ “Whatever shall I do with you?” _

Vergil tried to find a suitable come-back, but his desire was stronger than his rational thinking. He wanted… no,  _ needed,  _ her. He ached for the warmth only she could give him. His body burned with a fire only she could satiate. But taking her himself wouldn’t be enough. Vergil wanted her to give herself to him. He wanted to feel what it was like to let everything go; let someone else drag him into the pleasurable abyss. So when she spoke again -  _ what do you want, my love? -  _ all he could do was submit. 

_ “You,” _ He said, his voice clear despite the haze of his mind. Ashira hummed at that, testing his limits. But Vergil felt calmer than he had since it all started.  _ “Take me into you, my Queen,”  _ He said. Ashira’s eyes widened, and the scent of her increased arousal almost pushed him over the edge.  _ “Ravish me in the way I know you want to.” _

The rest of his pants were torn to shreds within seconds. She even tore her own off, tossing them without much care. Vergil expected her to take him just as quickly, as she was clearly treading the line between human desire and demonic instinct. But, once again, she was slow and meticulous. " _ Kind of like you, _ " a stray thought countered. His cock throbbed as she pressed the tip against her swollen clit. She dipped once, twice, but never fully committed, content with simply rubbing the two together. He fought the urge to buck into her and forced his head forward to catch her lips instead. She groaned against his mouth, slipping her tongue in before he could do it himself. The sheer intensity between them was enough to make his head spin. 

And when she finally -  _ finally - _ sank fully onto him, the sheer warmth of her core was overwhelming. He didn’t know how he kept himself together, especially when she moved in a way that kept him as deep within her as possible.  _ “Shira,”  _ He whispered. She pressed a finger to his lips. Her hair turned to feathers as her crown flickered into existence. His own tail found its way out, wrapping around her waist in a way his hands couldn’t. The energy in the room was nigh-uncontrollable, sparking between them in continuous waves. Every kiss. Every thrust. Every moan and quiet plea tugged on his soul. And she was damn near writhing with pleasure. And feeling her pushing herself so close to that edge gave him a newfound purpose. He clenched his fists, feeling the bonds against his wrists, determined to hold on as long as he could. 

She may have won the battle, but he would win the war. 

Then she reached for the headboard, pulled at the ribbons, and it all came undone. 

He blinked, and his moment of surprise gave her enough time to stop moving altogether. And when she did pull away, it was Vergil’s demon half that growled in utter fury, while he was left confused and borderline desperate. And yet, he felt that same desperation from her as she kissed every part of him she could reach. Lips, cheeks, neck, chest - it didn’t matter. If she were capable of outright devouring him, she probably would have. But the longer she waited, and the more adoration he felt between them, the more Vergil realized what she wanted from him.

When she nibbled on his ear again, it was her demon that spoke. 

_ I want all of you. _

The second the words left her tongue, the energy around them ignited. Human thoughts retreated as their triggers swept through the room. A phoenix shriek echoed over a resounding roar. Vergil flipped her on her back, claws digging into the bed as he let himself go. He bottomed out in a single stroke, earning a pleasured cry from her. Every thrust was accompanied by a flame in an endless loop of sinful pleasure. And he felt her relishing in it, her own demon form thrilled by the brutal and seemingly endless pace. The bed cracked. The sheets burst into flames. The headboard melted. Neither of them cared. His eyes bore into hers, and she stared right back. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him down as far as he would let her. When her cheek brushed his, her voice was all he heard. 

_ “You’re mine, Vergil.”  _ She whispered. And through the pleasure, alongside the intensity of every thrust, and the way their two forms seemed to melt together, he felt her cocoon around his soul. Quiet. Powerful. Possessive. And the human still breathing within cherished each emotion. 

_ “Come, my King.” _

Her arms slipped from his shoulders as he thrust as deep as he could. When her back hit the mattress, his wings closed in around her, and he bit down on her neck. She groaned in pure ecstasy, and it only took a few, slow rolls of hips to bring her to that same point. His body thrummed with pleasure; a vast and primal feeling. 

After a long moment of rapid heartbeats and labored breathing, Vergil gently pulled away. Her trigger dropped the second he untangled them, as did his. The wings remained, shielding her exhausted, shivering body from the rest of the world.  _ “My beloved,”  _ He whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. 

“I’m alright.” Her hand shook as she reached for his cheek. He pulled her to him instead, sitting back on the bed as his wings retreated. “That went about as well as I expected it to.” Her grin, while tired, was genuine. “Though I can’t feel my legs at the moment.”

Vergil chuckled. “If that’s the worst of your woes, you have very little to worry about.”

She nuzzled against him. “I was always afraid of that,” She whispered. “All these years… and I’ve never tried to push you that far…” Her voice muffled a bit. “Though I suppose we would’ve caused a lot more damage outside of the Underworld.”

Vergil glanced at the blackened bed beneath them. The curtains and rugs were singed. The furniture looked like it had been struck by lightning, including a rather large set of papers that had caught fire. He pulled that energy to himself in amusement. “It seems our room was not properly fireproofed.”

She laughed, flopping her head back to look up at him. “What will it take to get our own little cabin here?” She grinned at him. “Surely you can go for longer than that.”

Vergil snorted. “It’s not my stamina that’s lacking,  _ my Queen. _ ”

“I’m working on it,  _ Saina”  _ She snapped back with as much ferocity as a kitten. “Though a bath wouldn’t hurt. You know. For my  _ stamina _ .”

Vergil rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother hiding his content as he carried her away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who have read the series, her "fear" was mentioned in [ BT CH 34](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19015666/chapters/48730679)!
> 
> How far this collection has come xD


	2. High Praises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A second promise, but this time, the tables have turned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've actually gotten more than one request to add another chapter to this. And after careful consideration (or, more accurately, waiting for my brain to figure out what it wanted to do), here is the result. It was intended as a drabble, so only light editing done. 
> 
> Enjoy ^^7

Ashira might have wondered how she’d gotten herself into this predicament if Vergil gave her a second to do so. But every time she tried to form a coherent thought, he’d nip at her thigh in a silent “warning” of some kind (though she wasn’t opposed to seeing where that “warning” might lead, given the circumstances). When she tried to admonish him for _that_ he’d lick in _just_ the right spot where her words either died on her lips or came out as a jumbled mess. At some point, she’d given up completely and had pulled on his hair in some kind of lame defiance.

Except he loved it when she did that, so that “defiance” was very, _very_ short-lived. 

But _fuck_ . All of this - his wicked thoughts, devilish tongue, and the way he just _stared_ straight into her eyes without any hesitation or shame - had her so close to tumbling straight off the metaphorical precipice that she was half surprised she’d managed to stay on the bed. 

Though considering the way his hands had all but clamped down on her hips, maybe that wasn’t all that surprising.

He’d caught her off-guard earlier when he’d quite literally and without warning knelt in front of her when she had tried to get out of bed. And he’d been completely silent as he’d gently glided one of her legs over his shoulder and planted an absurd amount of butterfly kisses along her thigh. “My beautiful queen,” He’d murmured, dragging the silk of her own damn nightgown so tenderly against her skin that all she could do was shiver, eyes locked on his. And he’d stared right back. In fact, Ashira was quite certain his eyes hadn’t deviated from that one spot, even when her own threatened to roll into the back of her head. “It seems I have some… atoning to do?”

“For…?"

She hissed as his teeth grazed along her thigh. “I made a promise,” He said. “And I have yet to fulfill it. A faux pas on my part, but nothing that can’t be remedied.” His voice was unfairly seductive and unbearably husky. Though considering the myriad of ways he’d used it over their rather long married life, she was more than used to hearing it. 

It didn’t make him any less pleasing to listen to. If anything, it made her find ways to hear this version of him more often. 

So, in her haze of arousal she’d smiled back and said, “And here I thought you forgot.”

He slid his hands up along her hips, pulling her nightgown out of the way. “I never forget.”

“Except when you’re hopelessly drunk.”

Ashira fully accepted the more forceful bite she got for that. Not enough to break skin- never that - but certainly enough to leave a mark. “Careful,” He murmered as he drug the pads of his fingers back down her abdomen and along the elastic of her underwear. “Or I may just _forget_ right now.”

“Never,” She said as she drew small, lazy circles along his knuckles. “That would be dishonorable.” And while that would probably be enough permission for most people, Vergil still waited, even as his eyes hazed over with his own arousal. And as Ashira finally felt the last remnants of her sleepiness fade away, she brushed her fingers through his hair. “Which promise, my love?”

 _“If you put your trust in me,”_ He said as he drug her panties down in such an agonizing place that it took everything she had to keep from bucking right into his face. _“I’ll worship you, as a Queen should be.”_

The first time he had said it however long ago (six months? A year? Bah it didn’t matter) had been arousing enough, but she’d brushed it off as it had only been spoken after she’d managed to get him wrapped up in an absurd amount of blankets. And of all the promises he’d made that night, that was the one she assumed he’d never remember. It hadn’t been part of the long, drunk ramble where he’d practically agreed to sleep with her on the moon if she’d asked, so she didn’t think that she’d given him that particular part of the memory. Clearly, it had drifted between them at some point; she just didn’t know when. 

The second time, however, had her stomach flipping in pure desire

His expression turned a touch too smug. “ _I never forget, my beloved.”_

Now here she was, struggling to keep herself upright, much less hold herself back. Vergil was far too good at this; something she had both known and forgotten at some point in the last however long. The reminder, while torturous in all the right ways, was welcome. But beneath her pleasure was a hint of frustration. She wanted more, and was positive that he knew it too. 

_“Impatient, my love?”_ His coy voice echoed in her mind. _“This is all for you.”_

She tugged on his hair again in mock annoyance. _“Says the one in control.”_

A soft hum echoed back as his tongue circled her clit. _“Dammit Verg-”_ Even her thoughts vanished as his fingers slipped through her folds with astounding ease. Her arms shook with a mix of pleasure and exertion, and she wanted nothing more than to just flop back onto the bed and let him do whatever he wanted. But when her eyes trailed to the ceiling, he stopped moving - _again._ That was quickly becoming his favorite tease - and she forced herself to meet his gaze. His finger pressed against her most sensitive spot in silent praise, and she couldn’t fight back the groan of pleasure. _“Why must you do this to me?”_

He chuckled, his breath much too warm against her skin. _“You would do the same.”_

She _had_ done the same, in fact, but she was much too stubborn to admit it. And even if she wanted to, the pressure of a second finger wiped her mind of any suitable response. She barely noticed when his lips drifted to her stomach. She didn’t wonder how he kept such an infuriating pace while completely ignoring her own attempts to push back against him. When his lips met hers, she was too busy trying to find more friction to question how he’d actually gotten there. 

He pulled away far too soon; both his lips and his fingers from her core. She growled, clenching her muscles in an attempt to keep him there. But he simply smirked and slipped right out regardless. _“You’re much too wet for that, my Queen.”_ Her second attempt to intimidation was cut short by a sinful moan as his teeth grazed down on the pulse in her neck. His fingers caressed her spine, painting her skin with her own fluids. 

_“You coy, sinful, infuriating devil.”_

He bit her neck in response, before peppering her collarbone with a mixture of kisses and nibbles. When he reached the other side, the hand on her back slipped under her thigh as his knee teasingly pressed against her entrance. The silk of his pants was pure heaven against her swollen clit, and she bit her lip to keep from begging for him. Of course, her desire swirled in her mind as often as his name. When she finally dared to speak it, he silenced her with a kiss as he effortlessly lifted her enough to push them both back onto the bed. 

Ashira’s eyes widened as he sat up, stripping off his cumbersome shirt before swooping in for another kiss. She arched into him, sighing in content when he pushed her back down with his chest, pinning her to the bed beneath him. His hands found her wrists, but he lightly scraped the skin of her arms in endless and nonsensical lines. 

“Let me,” She murmured as she tugged gently at his hand. He paused for a moment, face buried in the crook of her neck. Their hearts were in perfect sync, practically crashing into each other with each erratic beat. But that was normal. They both knew each other so well. He the most sensitive pieces of her skin, and exactly how to draw whatever sound of hers he wanted. But she knew what he wanted, too; tender brushes through his scalp (or not so tender, under the right circumstances). Soft lines traced against the muscles of his arms, shoulders, or chest. And as she tugged on those memories in his own head- two decades of knowledge- he eventually let one of her hands go as he pressed his own down to steady himself. She kissed him in appreciation and brushed along his arm. His head didn’t move, and a quiet groan against Ashira’s neck made her shiver. 

“Vergil,” She whispered. He knew she was desperate, no matter how controlled she kept her voice. But she knew he’d done the same to himself. As she pressed her fingers along the muscles of his arm, she gently rolled her hips against the mound he could no longer hide. There was a small attempt to pull away from her, but a second kiss brought him right back. _“Don’t hold back, my love.”_

He lifted himself just enough to meet her eyes. But even in the clutches of desire, he still managed a smirk. _“Is my Queen begging?”_

She felt her demon-half bristle before she could stop it. But as her eyes changed, so did his: bright, draconic blue staring down at golden irises. But she didn’t want blind passion. Not after he’d spent so achingly long attending to her while expecting nothing in return. Despite his clear need, she knew from his thoughts that he would be content to drive her to her own peak, and save his own for another time.

But that’s not what she wanted. And this was _technically_ a promise for her. So, she reached up and brushed her thumb along his cheekbone. _“If that is what you wish from me,”_ She said. _“Then yes, my king. I submit to you.”_

He was gone for only a moment, yet her heart swelled the second he returned. She slid her hand back into his, and he lifted it to his lips, kissing each knuckle with equal tenderness. On the last one, he intertwined their fingers. When he leaned in to press a kiss to her temple, he guided himself deep into her core; slow and sensual. A simple gesture that pushed her close to tears. Once he’d pushed himself in as far as possible, he paused, kissing the corners of both of her eyes before capturing her lips again. 

His pace was slow, but Ashira found she didn’t mind it. Life always seemed to move a bit too fast nowadays. Too many people demanding too many things in such a short amount of time. Stolen kisses were often all they could manage. And if they found time for intimacy, it was going to be _slow._ Not necessarily gentle, as they both found thrill in aggressive love making as they did anything else, but drawn-out pleasure that would tide them over until they had another chance.

And the gentle rocking of his hips with hers was more than enough. Each thrust pushed him as deep as she could take him, and each pull drew out her own pleasure in an endless cycle. After some time, his head fell back into her shoulder, and she slid her fingers along his scalp before pulling him as close as she could. A comfortable warmth radiated between them. Their intertwined hands were off to the side, anchoring them both into some kind of reality. And as her legs quivered, and a warmth bloomed from her chest, she squeezed his hand tighter. When pleasure ripped through her muscles, all she could do was whisper his name over and over again like a wonderful, reverent prayer. 

And when her mind finally settled somewhat back into her body, his pace quickened, chasing his own pleasure. She rolled with him, rubbing circles along the base of his neck. He lifted his head from her shoulder, and pressed it back against her forehead. _“Look at me, Saina.”_ His demonic eyes snapped open in a heartbeat, and she felt him teeter on the edge, searching for that last little push. _“I’m here,”_ She said. _“I’ve got you.”_

His hand tightened on hers when he finally found his release. Even as he kissed her senseless, he felt his warmth spilling within her. A breathy moan escaped, followed by his own shudder as her pleasure looped back in on him. She kissed him gently to pull him back, and the two waited in comfortable silence. When their bodies finally relaxed- aside from their deep, content breathing- he pulled away and drew her back toward their pillows. She curled against his chest, smiling as he tried to pry out the blankets from under her. He gave up halfway, oddly impatient, and grabbed a fleece one from under the bed. “At least nothing caught on fire this time,” Ashira mumbled as she wrapped her arms around his stomach and nuzzled his chest. 

Vergil snorted. “Pythy still isn’t over that.”

“And he never will be,” She said as her eyes drifted shut. “He’ll be laughing about it in his grave if the old geezer ever manages to find one.”

Vergil’s gentle laugh was enough for her to ease into a quiet slumber. 


End file.
